School Days Are The Best Days Of Your Life
by blueskiesandseas
Summary: Simon is new to the school, unfortunately that doesn't stop him from getting thrust into a whirlwind of friends, enemies and lovers as he tries to survive high school. In this story you will find a literal A-Z of high-school emotions. Pairings- Simon/Roger, Jack/Ralph. New characters, lots of different POV's. Literally every single genre you can think of! Enjoy!


''Simon," I hear a soft whisper. My mind refuses to lift my head from the pillow but I manage to open my eyes.

"Simon." Light footsteps echo in my room, getting closer and closer. I feel a hand on my arm and it numbs my skin with coldness. I sit up quickly and shake the arm off.

"Don'-touch-me," I slur while rubbing my eyes, a frown on my face.

My little sister, Nancy, takes a step back and giggles delightedly. I'm forced to give her an apologetic smile as she smooths down her unruly black curls, her green eyes flashing.

Mother always told us we look like twins, but you can't really base someone's looks on just their eyes and hair.

Nancy has a button nose, I have a Greek one.

Nancy has a wide jaw while mine is thin.

Nancy has freckles, I don't.

I have a gap between my teeth, Nancy doesn't.

I could go on like this forever. I see so many differences other people don't see that when someone mentions twins to us I wonder what that word actually means. I'm familiar to this kind of stuff because I enjoy looking at people's faces and bing able to state everything about it. I keep a notebook where I jot down people's faces, one's that I remembered or one's that I like or see a lot. I'm pretty sure that if anyone found out they would call me batty. They already have.

"Simon!". I snap out of my thoughts and turn my head to notice Nancy standing in front of me, arms crossed, a disconcerted look on her face.

"You zoned out," she whispers quietly. I nod.

"Go back to your room Nancy, I need to get dresses." She obediently turns on her heel and walks out the room, gently closing the door behind her.

I sigh. My racing heart reminds me of what I have to get dressed for. An uneasy pain shoots through my stomach. Stress.

This is my first day at the new school-

I get up from my bed.

-I don't want to go-

I put on my underwear and open my wardrobe.

-What if I don't make any friends? -

I put on my clothes- a loose white t-shirt, with a green navy jacket, black jeans and converse-Wallflower clothes, as I like to call them- and go downstairs.

-What if I get bullied?-

I had experienced it before, but that was when I was small, now that I'm 15 it would probably be worse, more brutal.

-The thought of that scares the shit out of me.-

In my daydreams I had always stood up to my bullies but in real life everythings different, you know. I have no courage in me to do it. Life is just unfair on some people.

Mum drives me to school in her BMW. At least that's one thing I don't have to worry about. My family was always rich, and though I don't like to brag about it, it's one bad point about me off the checklist for my bullies.

The school looks nice, I think, as mum parks her car. It's an old, huge sandstone building surrounded by grass and trees. I hardly seem to acknowledge it like I would usually do, as I feel the stress eating away at my body.

"That's us," says mum. "Have a good day sweetheart." She kisses me on the cheek. "Good luck." I nod in thanks, too scared to say anything in case my voice breaks. I get out the car and without turning around I start walking towards the entrance, ignoring every single person I come across. And there's lots of them.

As I hear the comforting sound of mum's car engine fade away I feel like she's betraying me. I rapidly blink as to not cry, but I feel like I'm going to break down, right there in the middle of the car park, and cry for having a normal life.

Slap.

I feel a hand slam into my shoulder and I apin around, my backpack nearly flying off onto the soft gravel. My hearts in my throat, I swear it is. My vision blurs as I try to make out who the person is.

It's a girl.

She grins at me, eagerly. She has curly, frizzy brown haor and big, hazel eyes that mean no harm. Her cheeks are red as if she's been running and her lips are pushed out slightly, as if questioningly. She's not wearing any make-up but I think ahe knows she doesn't need to. What I mean by that, is that she's pretty. In this messy sort of way. Her smilebsuddenly turns into a grin and she sticks her hand out towards me.

"Hi! I'm Tracy! You must be the new boy?"

I nod slightly, too stunned to speak. She took me by surprise. I remember my manners and reach out to shake her hand, hoping she doesn't notice the sweat. And if she does I hope she understands it.

"What's your name?"

"Simon."

"That's a nice name."

A smile breaks out on my face, not out of politeness, but because I want to. All the stress floods out of me and into the sewer beside me.

"Did you just switch schools, or did you move here?"

"I moved here, because my dad got a new job." What a lie. I haven't seen my dad in years. But the words, "I was having trouble in school," couldn't seem to escape my lips.

Tracy nods. "This is a good school," she says. "I promise." I take her word for that.

"C'mon," she says, and grabs me by the arm. She leads me to the benches outside the school, surrounded by flowers and plants. We sit down, close enough but with a comfortable gap of strangerness yet to be filled. Tracy galnces at her watch.

"School's not starting till half an hour. Let's wait for Stella."

My throat clenches slightly when I hear about Stella.

What was I expecting? For Tracy to be a loner, like me?

I'm scared again. I can't help it. What if they juat leave me there? Do I follow them? I don't want them to feel like I'm interfering.

"She's my best friend. I'm sure you'll like her, she's funny as hell."

I forget to respond.

After a few blissful seconds of silence, Tracy speaks again.

"Do you want me to fill you in on our year?"

I nod, and turn my head towards her. She takes a deep breath, and starts:

"Well," she says. "Our year has 200 people in it."

My eyes widen at that number. My school had 200 pupils in total.

"Due to the fact that this used to be a boys' school, there's only 62 girls out of the 200. Like any other school there's the popular people, the weird people and the ones that are stuck in the middle. That's me. And Stella. And you, if you take the offer of hanging out with us."

The warmth of joy fills my body and I give her a quick, yet meaningful grin.

"And look, it's not like I believe in that kind of stuff, but it's just the way school-life goes and you just have to go along with it. But personally I think cliques are dumb and degeading."

Finally, someone who understands me.

"I hate them too," I whisper quietly. We exchange a knowing smile. The moment is interrupted by loud music blasting in pur ears.

An old, black Jeep pulls up into the parking lot. From inside comes this strange

da boom na da mmm dum na ema

and it repeats itself over and over again. I recall that it's the bridge from the Korn song Freak On A Leash.

"Speaking of cliques," Tracy whispers to me, moving to sit closer. "That's the 'bad boy' one." The boys start to get out the car. There's 4 of them.

The first to get out is not a face I would like to put into my notebook. Even though he's handsome, his face scares me.

The music stops. I examine the boy. His hair is devil red, straight and thin but it obscures his face perfectly. He has freckles, his nose is turned up slightly, and his eyes are cold blue. He's dressed normally in jeans and a t-shirt.

"That's Jack," Tracy says, nodding at the ginger. "He's the leader." I nod. He looks like one.

"He looks scary," tell her, a bit afraid that she might laugh at me. Instead, she nods.

"He is. He beat up Stella once, and she had two black eyes, bruises, a broken arm, two broken fingers and a broken toe."

I gasp. He sounds like a monster.

"What for?" Tracy sighs.

"There was no actual reason, I...I think it was because she went out with Ralph..."

"Ralph?" I ask.

"Jack's enemy." I raise my eyebrows. "Then why did he-" Tracy shushes me.

"Let me explain. Ralph is like the year angel. He's perfect in everything he does, in how he looks. You should see him- blonde hair and all that. He's friends with everyone, except for Jack and his gang. They've been enemies since primary school. But, I have a feeling that...Jack...has a thing for Ralph." She whispers the last sentence into my ear, her breath tingling my skin. I look at her, wide-eyed.

"I have my reasons. You'll see."

Her gaze drifts back towards the car. Another boy has gotten out the car and is talking to Jack now. The other two are stil in the car, hunched figures covered by shadows, fixing something.

His hair hangs over his forehead, thick and strawberry blonde. His nose is button and he has freckles. He's wearing black jeans and a band t-shirt.

Beside me, I hear Tracy breathe in sharply. I look from her to the boy, who's now laughing at something Jack has said. It takes me a moment to figure it out. I ponder over what I'm about to say. Should I say it? I breathe in.

"You like him, don't you?"

Her gaze lingers on me for a long time before she answers.

"Yes," she says quietly, then looks back at him. "His name's Maurice."

I'm sorry if I offended you by asking-" My speech is cut short by her laugh.

"I'm not offended," she says loudly, and a few heads turn towards us. "I was just wondering how you'd figured it out so quickly."

I smile at her. "I have the eyes for it."

The third boy gets out. His brown hair is slicked back and it makes him look like some 1940's mafia. He looks dangerous. He's got a Roman nose, I notice, and crow-like eyes. He's not pleasurable to watch.

"Bill," Tracy says.

And the fourth boy gets out.

The first thing I notice is his black, loosely-tied combat boots. The second thing I notice is his black, slightly tight jeans. Then, I notice his hair is raven-black, messy as hell, and it curls at the ends. He keeps his head down, fixing his t-shirt. His t-shirt is loose and grey and he has suspenders attached to his jeans. They're a bit lose, one of the straps on the shoulders is falling off.

He lifts his head.

His eyes are dark, shadowed by a thick curtain of lashes. His skin is creamy, milky-white, tanned; his skin is everything. It seems to me as if he's got every single colour in the world on his skin. His nose is straight, Greek, like mine.

His cheekbones are high.

His eyes are almond-shaped.

His body is lanky.

His lips are dark.

His eyes are cold.

I take a deep breath and inhale him. I inhale every single piece of him.

"That's Roger," Tracy tells me, and I blink my gaze towards her. We fall silent as the four boys start walking towards us, in the direction of the school entrance.

"It's fucking freezing," Jack says, as they walk past us and into the school. None of them notice us, two wallflowers, both madly in love with one of them.


End file.
